All Dressed Up
by Las Vegas Navarro
Summary: Death isn't the only sacrifice made in the service of one's country.


The stiletto slid in so smoothly, he thought for a moment that he'd missed. Then the world fell down.

_The dress shimmered in the low light cast by thousands of tiny table lamps. It had character in its unusual design, character that it lent to any woman it graced. Following the cue, its wearer walked a little more sexily than the occasion warranted. However, who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?_

_He wasn't the only man in the room to appreciate it. Heads turned and conversations stilled to watch her pass. To her credit, she seemed immune; her single-mindedness made her oblivious to the stir she caused. Poor thing was untried; her gaze gave the game away. Anyone with the slightest bit of training would pick up her target in a millisecond._

He looked down and avoided the eyes that bespoke her dismay, steadily applying more pressure. Then the world fell down.

_Maybe he'd met her gaze too sincerely. Maybe she'd picked up on the traces of an imperceptible nod he hadn't quite stilled. Maybe she'd thought he was handsome. In any case, she set a heading directly for his location. This might require a little more finesse than he'd judged at first. Oh, well. He could always use the practice._

_He shifted forward and approached her. When they met, he held out his hand._

_"Honor me?" She smiled and took his hand. The best defense is a good offense, he thought as he led her to the dance floor. With a flourish, he turned her gracefully and presented her to the crowd. When he drew her back in, he caught the barest tendril of scent from her neck. It was heady, and her smile only compounded the intoxicating effect._

_His feet found the tempo of the music and soon they were gliding through the crowded space effortlessly. The fabric of the dress was smooth and weightless as it caressed them, embraced them. She was well-studied in dancing; he barely felt her hands on his shoulder and in his hand, and she responded instantly to the slightest suggestion of his posture._

He was reassured when he felt the slight resistance and revolting crunching sensation as the ethmoid bone gave way and the stiletto continued its journey. Then the world fell down.

_The music quieted as the guest of honor took his place at the podium and bade everyone take their seats. He escorted her to a table near the stage and seated her like a gentleman. She again rewarded him with a smile, and he sat next to her at her invitation. _

_Throughout the speaker's opening remarks, she paid rapt attention. Shortly into the body of his speech, however, she pressed her hand to the side of her head and feigned a slight pain. She'd done that fairly well. He was certain he was the only person who'd noticed the slight pressure of her index finger on the hair over her ear, indicating that the volume on her earwig was too low._

_She excused herself in a whisper and tried to rise unobtrusively. He immediately rose, concerned more for her intent than her well-being and guided her to the back of the room. He lost them in the curtained alcoves in his sham attempt to conduct her from the room and to medical attention. As they drifted farther and farther from the speaker and his guests, she became aware that his assistance was nothing of the sort._

_At her effort to break away from him, he tightened his grip on her arm and muscled her into the next alcove. Her dress tangled momentarily with the heavy curtain, but he freed it with surprising ease, once again marveling at the soft texture. When she realized that escape was not an option, she breathed deeply in preparation for a vocalization of her fear. _

With a smooth maneuver, he clapped his hand over her mouth and drove the stiletto into her nasal cavity. Her body convulsed and her objection died in her throat as her life died in her eyes. He swiftly removed the stiletto and allowed her to gently slump to the floor. Then the world fell down.

He was unsurprised at the sound of gunfire and barely cast a glance to the stage. The guest of honor was slumping over the podium as the crowd dissolved into pandemonium. He caught a glimpse of a man in the mezzanine as the heavy curtain swung softly back into place.

The room filled with screams and chaos. People scattered and strained the allowance of the doorframes in their haste to distance themselves from the perceived threat. Security agents streamed into the room, guns blazing, further adding to the imbroglio. But again, perhaps he was eyeing that gift horse just a little too close to the suck. Such was the bedlam that he exited a little-known side door and melted unnoticed into the night.

As he walked along the alley, the wind stirred and he again caught her scent. His hands still remembered the warmth of her body and her responsiveness to his direction. The brunette hair so artfully coiffed would linger longer, but he'd never more than glanced at her face. Small consolation, but once more the gift horse galloped into the equation.

He turned the corner and proceeded to the greenway that flanked the mighty river running through the city. Though he was preoccupied with weighty thoughts about beauty's perversion through evil, every sense was on the alert. He nearly started when he recognized the dress worn by the only other soul on the bridge. The moon accented its already profuse shimmer and painted the artfully coiffed brunette hair with blue streaks.

She turned to face him and smiled. He approached her slowly, almost reluctantly.

"Anyone see you?" He asked softly. She nodded.

"Yup. The concierge, the receptionist and the doorman. All bade us a good night." She shivered slightly in the increasing wind and he shrugged out of his tux jacket. He tucked it carefully around her shoulders and cleared his throat.

"I'm assuming-" she cut him off with her hand upheld.

"Alley, three blocks back. You don't want to know how. Anyway, it serves him right. He was entertaining prurient thoughts. And yours?" She inquired solicitously.

"Alcove, back of the room. The main attraction went off without a hitch." He gazed at the water pensively and chewed the nail of his left thumb. She rubbed her arms briskly beneath the tux jacket and joined him in thought.

They were both disrupted a moment later by the sound of a car approaching the bridge. The black Town Car pulled up to the bridge and stopped, the driver waiting expectantly. They approached the car and he opened her door, then circled the back of the car and entered on the other side. As he slid in, he inadvertently touched her dress. He sighed in sorrow and signaled the driver. As they pulled into the night, he turned slightly to face her.

"By the way," murmured Carlito, "great dress."


End file.
